Free The Lightcap by Dan Marshall

knew the reason Jared had his position was because his father served on the Adaptech Board of Directors.  Adam thought of Jared as a “brogrammer”, as he seemed just as likely to spend a night taking shots as he would debugging code and said “bro” far too often when talking to men who weren’t his brothers.  Usually Jared mushed the word into “bruh”. 
    “Damn it, Jared, you scared the shit out of me,” gasped Adam, his hand unconsciously drawn to cover his chest, his heart racing.  “And don’t call me Chuck. Or Charles. It’s Adam.”  He was already angry his team knew his full name.  It was because of people like Jared that he didn’t like people knowing too much about him.  Certain people would always find openings to attack, or at least to use against his will.
    “Sorry, bruh,” Jared said, his lips drawn into a smug, dopey smile.  Adam did his best not to outwardly wince.  “Didn’t mean to scare you.  Was just making sure you were all right.  You seemed a bit out of it after our reentry earlier.”
    “I’m fine,” Adam said curtly.  “And what do you mean by ‘reentry’?”  Adam was doing his best not to sound annoyed.  He was pretty sure he was failing.
    “Just checkin’, boss,” Jared replied.  “I call it ‘reentry’ because I felt like a spaceman coming back from orbit.  Still feel a little light-headed.  Spacey.  You feel back to normal?”
    Adam thought about possible long answers to such a simple question.  Any sense of normalcy Adam possessed had vanished over the past several days, with talk of memories zapped out of existence and dreams of a world inhabited by Greek Titans and an odd old man.  “Yes,” Adam replied.  “I’m fine.  I suggest you focus on staying rested for our project, rather than spending too much time focusing on the details of . . . the device,” he whispered the last two words, hesitant to say “Lightcap” in public, even as the bustling passengers moved in and out of the subway alcove, oblivious to the Jared and Adam.
    “Good to know,” Jared said. He gave a mock salute and continued: “I’m going to go home and watch election results. See you tomorrow, bruh!” He then bounded back up the stairs, seemingly eager to escape the subterranean subway station’s moving throng and bad smells.
    Adam tried to decide whether Jared was annoying, odd, or both as he walked into the subway car.  Muscle memory and repetition took over as his thoughts turned back to all that had recently changed in his life.  New position, new project, new technology.  It was an exciting yet unsettling time.  He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it all, but he was glad to be going home for the day.
    The subway door closed with a clunk reminiscent of the elevator door’s.  The sound brought his focus back to reality, where he was immediately struck with the sensation of being watched.  Had Jared come back?  One surprise like that was enough for the afternoon.  Turning in a wide circle, Adam saw that no one seemed to be paying him any attention.  Nerves, he thought, then closed his eyes, taking a minute to order his thoughts.  He sent a dome command to his home control unit, instructing it to raise the temperature in his apartment by four degrees before he got home.  What he needed was a good, long sleep.  Adam’s lanky right arm stretched against the hand rail as the subway car started its slow roll away from the station.  He opened his eyes and focused through the glass door, onto the platform beyond.  He saw the face of the disheveled man from his dream—only for a moment—before the man was gone.
    He blinked several times, unable to believe his eyes.  The subway plunged into the darkness of the tunnel.
     

 

    Adam slipped his fingers through rubber, as he pried the doors apart.  They seemed to open painfully slowly to Adam, who desperately wanted out.  He sprinted ten blocks back to the last stop with long strides, dress